


The Darkroom Job

by imaginemagics



Series: Let's Go Steal a Family (no refunds) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Leverage Fusion, Eventual Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, F/F, F/M, Leverage AU, M/M, Scott's ex is a world-renowned criminal, because Allison rocks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-01 09:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8618083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginemagics/pseuds/imaginemagics
Summary: Scott and Stiles are sitting in a shitty bar drinking equally shitty beer when none other than Lydia Martin walks in with a proposition. She's putting together a team to take on Matt Daehler, stalker and all-around creep, and she wants them on the team. There are conditions, of course. She already has her own hitter and thief, and refuses to answer stupid questions. Stiles can't resist, and Scott goes where his brother does, even if it means doing things he's not entirely comfortable with. Like working against the law with a bunch of criminals, masterminding the whole operation, and coming face-to-face with Allison Argent for the first time since they broke up.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wake_me_up_AV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wake_me_up_AV/gifts).



The bar is loud and both Scott and Stiles are pleasantly buzzed, so perhaps they can be forgiven for not noticing Lydia Martin until she sits down across from them. Then again, the look she levels at them implies there is no excuse. 

“Lydia!” Stiles exclaims, leaning forward a little. “How are you, strawberry goddess? I see Paris has done nothing to dim your ethereal glow.” He gestures with the hand holding his beer, and some sloshes over onto the already sticky table. The look she gives him would send any sensible sentient being scurrying. Stiles, unfortunately, has never been sensible. 

“Scott,” she says, turning her attention to the brother with a better sense of self-preservation. “I have a proposition for you.” Stiles spits out his drink in shock and she throws him another withering glance before turning back to Scott. She hands him a photograph, and stiles leans over to look at it. The is a nondescript man with sandy brown hair, aiming a camera at—

“Allison?” Scott exclaims, surprise punching him in the face. Lydia nods, a steely look in her eye. 

“I am going to destroy this man’s life,” she says, her voice quiet but determined. “And for the sheer amount of humiliation I’m going to make him suffer, I need a team. I want you both on it.” The low lighting of the bar glints off her hair, giving her a halo tinged with red.

“Why me?” Scott asks, furrowing his nose in confusion. “Stiles I can understand. He’s the best computers person there is, except maybe Danny.” He ignores Stiles’ outraged ‘Dude!’ and continues. “But I’m not a criminal, Lydia.”

“Exactly.” She interrupts him. “You’re a good man, Scott, and smarter than most people give you credit for. Most of this team will know each other, but they’ve never worked a job together. In fact, none of them work with others in general. You know people, and you’re a good leader. That’s why I need you-to run the con.” 

“Why don’t you run it?” Scott asks.

Lydia grins as she stands up, smoothly swinging her purse onto her shoulder. “Because I’m the grifter this time,” she says. “and I can’t exactly order all you idiots around while in the middle of a conversation with the mark now, can I?” She turns around and struts off, her figure disappearing into the crowd.  
Scott looks down at the photo, turning it around in his hands. On the back is the address to a penthouse in NYC, and the words, _‘meeting at 10 am next Tuesday.'_

Stiles stares at it as well. “Dude.”

“I know.”

_“Dude.”_

Scott sighs.


	2. Chapter 2

The penthouse is beautiful, but cold. Decorated entirely in black, white, and gold, it makes Stiles shiver despite the perfectly calibrated temperature. He and Scott make their way into the sitting room (because this is the kind of place with a sitting room instead of a living room) and settle on the extremely uncomfortable sofa. 

The room is very minimalist, the furniture very sparse. But you can see the whole room from their vantage point, and the only thing that implies someone might live here is the huge TV over the fireplace. It’s turned on, and there’s a still image of their mark on it.

Allison comes out of the kitchen and drapes herself into a wing backed chair, shooting a soft smile at them. Stiles can feel Scott start, making an aborted movement to get off the couch. “Alli—“

Lydia comes marching out of the kitchen, the clack of her heels effectively cutting off anything Scott might say. “Alright people, I don’t have time for introductions and almost everybody knows each other anyways. Scott, Stiles, If you turn around you will meet our hitter.” A shadow falls across Stiles’ lap. Slowly, he turns around.

“HOLY SHIT!”

The man was huge. And attractive. And very heavily muscled. And did Stiles mention attractive? Not a safe attractive though. More like a ‘I could kill you with my stubble’ kind of attractive. And his eyebrows were quite possibly the most intimidating facial hair he had ever seen. But the crown jewel, the most remarkable thing about this stunning man that had scared the shit out of Stiles had to be his eyes. What color were they? They were a beautiful mix of green and brown and blue and gold. Stiles could spend the rest of his life looking into those eyes and die happy.

The dream—for no way could any human exist that was this beautiful—quirked an eyebrow at Stiles. Somewhere behind him, he could sense Lydia rolling her eyes. “Stiles Stilinski, meet Miguel Juarez Cinqua-Tiego. Miguel, Stiles.”

“Wow.” Stiles managed to say, before kicking the part of his brain that had been hypnotized back into working order. “That’s uh, quite the mouthful. How do you spell it?”

The corner of Miguel Juarez-Whatever’s mouth quirked up in a tiny smile. “Phonetically,” he drawled, and Oh. The object of Stiles’ affections was a smartass. He fell a little further in love.

Lydia cleared her throat and Miguel sauntered over to the other wing backed chair and sat down, otherworldly eyes glittering in amusement. The click of Lydia’s heel impatiently tapping the floor finally induced Stiles to drag his attention away from the other man. “Allison and I have worked with Miguel before,” she said, mouth curling around Miguel’s name as if it was some sort of private joke between the three of them. “We can vouch that he’s one of the most trustworthy people we know. Now, to get back to business. If I know you two at all, then Stiles found out everything possible to find out from the internet about our erstwhile Mr. Daehler. So my only question, Scott, is what you have in mind.”

Scott cleared his throat and stood up uncertainly, moving forward to take center stage. As he did, Lydia glided over to where Miguel was sitting and nudged him. With a grin, he got off the seat and moved to lean against the side as Lydia settled into it. The interaction had the weathered feel of an old friendship.

“Okay,” Scott said, glancing over at Allison once before beginning. “So, Matt Daehler. Relatively high up the food chain at Kanima Corporations. Obsessive stalker. We’re pretty sure he has the CEO, Jackson Whittemore, in his pocket. He had a traumatic experience when he was a kid where he almost drowned, and that’s given him some issues we can work with.”

“What are you thinking?” Allison asked.

“I’m thinking Liechtensteiners.” Scott turned to look at the picture of their mark, a determined look entering his eye. "Yeah. Liechtensteiners should do nicely."

**Author's Note:**

> Fist chapter done!


End file.
